Wickedness comes in all shapes and forms
by MLaw
Summary: Napoleon, scary stories, Halloween and a bevy of beautiful secretaries at headquarters, need I say more. Originally posted on section7mfu Live Journal for the # 5 QuoteMe challenge. The prompt, from Joseph Conrad: " The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness."


"It's All Hallows Eve, the night when the veil between the world of the living and the dead is at its thinnest, and perhaps...something wicked this way comes. Mwaaa haa haaa," Napoleon Solo sat, speaking in hushed tones while surrounded by a bevy of beauties from the secretarial pool, as well as Wanda from reception.

His flashlight in hand, with the lights turned low; he told them a ghostly tale in keeping with the holiday.

The women were entranced, and happily he could sense their uneasiness was growing. Napoleon was delighted at having the undivided attention of so many gorgeous women at the same time, realizing now that a good scary tale had its uses.

He laughed to himself, thinking he was shameless in the ways he used to lure women to him, not that he really needed to do anything, as they seemed to hover around him like moths to a flame. His hopes were that he'd go home with one of them for an evening of unbridled love-making; that was the real treat to this Halloween trick he was trying to pull off tonight.

Still if nothing came of it, that was fine too. He enjoyed being around 'les girls', talking to them, hearing what they had to say, just their very scent captivated him. He found the female of the species utterly fascinating. He didn't have to go to bed with a woman to enjoy her company; though his partner seemed to think otherwise of him.

His numerous horizontal liaisons did foster that reputation, yet there were times he just enjoyed a woman for her conversation and insights. Again, Illya refused to believe he was capable of such a thing.

It was Solo's turn at night duty, and this story telling time to while away the last few hours of the late shift was working out better than he could have imagined.

Everything was quiet at headquarters, and even T.H.R.U.S.H. seemed to have taken the night off and that being the case; it allowed him to gather the ladies together for some fun.

Illya was, enviably, out alone on assignment somewhere in New York city. That didn't sit well with the American, not being there to guard his partner's back. It was after all, Halloween and there were a lot of weird people out there masquerading as ghouls and goblins, especially in the Village. Who knew if one of them were an enemy agent, or and axe murderer for that matter.

Napoleons senses were tingling, making him fret that something bad was going to happen to his Russian friend, especially without him being there with him.

That, however, was a standard bill of fare whenever they were separated….the 'willies' Solo called is feelings. The American always got them when he worried about his partner. Still, Illya was a big boy, he told himself, and could handle the job without him. That was what he liked to believe, though his gut always gave him an argument to the contrary. Illya commented that he was becoming like a mother hen, but Napoleon denied it.

So now, here Solo was in the middle of scaring the bejesus out of these women, and loving every minute of it, as some of them nervously clung to his arms; feeling the need for his manly protection….even though they were just silly stories he was going on about with them.

At the moment it was the tale of the headless horseman that had them all a jitter, especially since the legend took place in the village of Sleepy Hollow in Westchester...not that far from the city, less than 45 minutes away. That, he supposed, gave them a dose of reality. He thought it odd that these secretaries typed up agents reports with all the gory and sordid details without so much as batting an eye, and here a little legend had them shaking.

It was almost too good to be true when a violent storm front blew in out of nowhere...very conveniently timed as it added to the frightening atmosphere he was looking to create.

The rain fell in torrents, with flashes of lighting and rumbling thunder adding the perfect touch to the ambience of his little scare fest. A loud crack of thunder split the air, and suddenly the dimmed lights went out; the emergency backups coming to life, bathing the room in an eerie glow of red.

A few squeaks and squeals came from the girls and Napoleon quickly assured them everything was fine. Obviously the storm was causing a brief power outage….the emergency lighting would last for hours if need be.

"And of course, I still have my trusty flashlight, but if you'll excuse me for a moment ladies, I need to check in with Security." He pulled his communicator.

"Solo here, is everything all right?"

"Yes sir. We're on backup power for the moment, though some of headquarters is experiencing a blackout. We recommend that all staff remain where they are until the power issue is resolved. Some of the doors are not working properly and one of the elevators is out of commission."

"Security systems are functioning?"

"Yes sir, they've got power and are on-line."

"Good, wouldn't want any feathered friends taking advantage of the situation and initiating an attack on us, would we? Have you verified the outage is due to the storm and nothing else?"

"We're in the process of doing that sir. It looks like a transformer was struck by lightning. At this point Security has things under control.

"Very well, keep me informed. Out." Napoleon sighed in relief, thinking for once the Old Man not being here made for a bit of luck, Solo luck perhaps, as the Security detail for the CCO would have had to have been doubled, just in case.

"Now ladies, back to my story," he smiled mischievously, trying to pick up where he left off.

"Napoleon, I'm really scared," Julie Anne Margolies, the newest member of the staff began to shiver, rubbing her arms with her hands. At that moment, the emergency backup lights flickered, and went out, followed immediately by a bright flash of lightning and a loud thunder-clap.

This time a few of the ladies shrieked….

"Take it easy girls, everything will be fine. Trust me!" He tried not to laugh. "Hmmm, reminds me of a good vampire story...that starts with 'It was a dark and stormy night…' or better still, did I ever tell you about me and Illya having to deal with real vampires and a Magyar Count named Tedescu in Transylvania? *

"Napoleon Solo, I think you're only trying to scare the heck out of us just to see who'll want to go off with you tonight," Wanda countered his story-telling.

"Wanda dear, I know you're a brave señorita, but some of these ladies aren't as strong or experienced as your pretty self." He tapped her on the end of her pert nose with his finger. That complimentary remark took her completely off-guard and instantly waylaid her way of thinking.

"Now ladies, shall I continue with my stories or not?You are, after all, safe with me in headquarters. There's plenty of other people here to protect you as well. So what's the harm in a few Halloween stories, just for fun? His voice, though sultry, oozed with sincerity. He was putting his on his best game at this point.

In spite of that reassurance, one by one they declined his offer; it wasn't the ghosts they had become wary of, it was more his guise of a wolf in sheep's clothing. Finally, it was only Julie Anne who was left, as the others decided to go back to their desks next door, following Wanda as she had a flashlight as well. They disappeared out into the darkened corridor once the pneumatic door had been pried open.

"So Julie Anne, I have a place where we could segue to that's a little more private, and we can ride out the storm...it's in the Map Room."

"Ummm, I don't think so Napoleon. Not that your offer isn't genuine, but I think there's a bit of pre-meditated wickedness that you're up to tonight. The girls sort of told me about you."

"And what might that be my dear?"

"That you're a bit of a ladies man, that's all."

"Moi? Surely you can't believe everything you hear. Though I do admit, I do enjoy the company of a lovely woman…"

"In this case, she is right to trust her instincts," a familiar Russian voice spoke as he limped through the darkened open door.

"Whoa, you startled the heck out of me tovarisch," Napoleon laughed.

"So you are up to your old tricks again my friend," Illya pulled up a chair beside his partner and the petite brunette.

"And what might you be referring to chum?"

Illya could hear the tone of Napoleon's voice change.

"Ix-nay on the atter-chay, " Solo added in pig-latin.

Julie stood up from where she was sitting, taking a lighter from her purse. "Tricks huh? I think the girls were telling me the truth about you Napoleon," she laughed as she headed out the door. She did, however, lean over and give him a conciliatory peck on the cheek before departing.

"Thanks a bunch Illya," Solo growled. "I had a shot with her...I think, well at least getting to first base, maybe."

"Napoleon, though it is Halloween, the belief in the supernatural is unnecessary, in your case, as you are quite capable of every wickedness and mischief when it comes to women. Now let us go to the commissary, I am famished and want to scrounge up something to eat before my headache worsens. I am hoping there is still leftover pumpkin pie."

"Wicked…me? Hey, are you paraphrasing Joseph Conrad...wait are you saying I'm evil?"

"I never said exactly that," Illya ruefully smiled as the lights came back on…."Seriously my friend, you let your imagination and libido run too wild at times. It never ceases to amaze me what lengths you will go to, to lure a woman into your 'parlor.'

"Like you have neither, "Napoleon sneered. " I swear you are so straight-laced at times, but then again I suppose that's your stiff-necked Socialist upbringing. You really need to loosen up."

_"Excuse_ me, that would be Marxist, " Illya feigned offence as he corrected his partner."And what does my background have to do with making an observation on your tendency to get carried away when it comes to the ladies. It is not like it is a big secret. I do, however, take umbrage to you saying I lack the ability for creative visualization, and have no sex drive. I choose to keep my assignations private...unlike you." His voice was tinged with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Hey just kidding chum, just kidding. Don't get your nose all bent out of shape."

The Russian looked at him strangely, touching his hand to his proboscis as if to check it.

There were times Solo wondered if somehow things got lost in translation with Illya. Having the ability to speak so many languages; surely there were times they had to get them mixed up in his head.

The Russian's inability to understand American colloquialisms case in point. For a brief second Napoleon wondered if his partner feigned ignorance, and got them wrong on purpose, just to annoy him. His partner had a very dry sense of humor, and that fit his profile. Solo reminded himself had to think more about this later.

Illya's head was filling with thoughts as well. Though fairly accustomed to Napoleon's joking and mischief-making, there were times he wondered if his partner's jocularity was all that innocent. Still the man was never truly mean-spirited in any of his remarks… He, himself, was guilty of poking fun at the man, at times, unmercifully.

Both men looked up from their fleeting thoughts…Napoleon, the first to speak.

"Hey I was just telling some spooky stories to the ladies, though as usual, I suppose you're right. I'll admit I was trying to scare them just to see where it might lead. One never knows."

"See, that is just my point, you may have been telling innocent stories, but still going to bed with one of these women was your ulterior motive...and you say I am becoming predictable…" Illya headed to the door, with Napoleon's flashlight in hand, thus ending the conversation.

"Smart aleck Russian," Solo mumbled under his breath as unexpectedly the power went off again, with no back up lights this time.

"Hey! Wait for me will ya?"

"Afraid of the dark?" Illya called, his voice echoing from farther down the empty hallway as he stood in the dark.

"Keep it up Kuryakin and I'll get you assigned to night duty in records for the next two weeks!"

There was silence, and suddenly the flashlight came to life, lighting Napoleon's way to where his partner waited patiently.

"Hmm, thought so," the American chuckled.

"Napoleon, would you really do that to me?"

"Nah, come on, let's go get you those slices of pumpkin pie. I have it on good authority there's some in Cookie's private stash in the refrigerator under the counter. Hey, why are you limping by the way? Hurt on your assignment?"

"_Nyet,_" Illya hesitated answering."I tripped when the lights went out and twisted my ankle.

"Hmmm, the cat-like Illya Kuryakin twists his ankle in headquarters...I find that a bit ironic."

"Stop laughing Napoleon. It is not funny."

Solo hesitated, his thoughts returning to Illyas comment. "You know you may be right, I am becoming as predictable with women as you are with food."

"This you are figuring out just now?"

Though Illya was standing out of the range of the flash light, Napoleon could sense the Russian was rolling his eyes.

Their good-natured banter faded as they walked down the hall to the staircase as the elevator wasn't working…The lights flashed on for a second, just as Napoleon put one foot on the first step, startling him and making him slip as his eyes hadn't adjusted from the dark. He grabbed the handrail, and Kuryakin snatched him by the arm, but not before he twisted his ankle."

"Owww," Napoleon moaned,"Darn it!"

The lights popped on again, revealing a smiling Russian who was feeling a bit wicked himself. "You were saying something about irony my friend?"

* ref "The Blood is the Life affair"


End file.
